


The Guides of Glacier Bank

by Stella (bella)



Series: Adjoining: a Sentinel Carrierverse Series [3]
Category: Original Work, The Sentinel (TV), carrierverse - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Arranged Marriage, CarrierVerse, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Discipline, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Gender Roles, Getting to Know Each Other, Intersex, M/M, Maledom, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Other, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22750552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella/pseuds/Stella
Summary: DeMaurius Perth has never had a home. And now, as a refugee from the destroyed cities, an orphan, and a 0.5 level Guide, he barely fits in to Glacier Bank. But that all changes when his body undergoes the Change...and he finds himself accepting an arranged bonding to local Sentinel lumberjack, Armo Geir.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Adjoining: a Sentinel Carrierverse Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115504
Comments: 17
Kudos: 68





	1. Thursday

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Moonhunt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/208771) by [Dolimir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir). 
  * Inspired by [Moonrise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/171562) by [Stella (bella)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella/pseuds/Stella). 
  * Inspired by [November](https://archiveofourown.org/works/194173) by [Kabi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabi/pseuds/Kabi). 



“Oh.” Ada said, as soon as she saw him. “Morrie. You shaved.”  
DeMaurius Perth scratched self-consciously at his chin with one hand, then returned it to the pocket of his sweatshirt.  
“Yeah. It was itching me a lot. Feeling weird.” 

It had been strange, how quickly the sensation had come upon him last night; the sense of not-rightness, the agitation. It had been getting thinner for some reason, anyway — had begun to look patchy until he’d had to trim it back to try to keep some semblance of style. 

The room felt hot as he looked around for a seat, but DeMaurius thought nothing of it; he’d felt inexplicably _off_ since last Thursday, but this morning he’d woken up with a stomachache and a deep longing for home that had left him feeling gray and fast-moving and empty.

Ada brushed her hand over his tight curls in that gentle way she had, always looping a fingertip into the coil closest to the center of his forehead, and squeezed a piece of paper into his hand before retaking her seat.

“Ah. Well, you look handsome. Now sit down — we’re just going over the notes that got sent down from last week’s meeting between the Sunshine and Eden Clans over in Montana.”

DeMaurius found a seat two spaces away from the group leader, next to the only other familiar face in the room. Elke smiled at him as he approached, and scooted over on her bench to make room for him. 

At the front of the room, Doris Calloway stood up to read the minutes of last meeting — and DeMaurius heard a strange buzzing noise behind him. 

Then Elke was shaking his shoulder and he was trying to answer her, but couldn’t quite get his words to work right, and there were alarm bells ringing _somewhere_ in his head but they were far away and sleep seemed so close…

~:~


	2. Friday

When he opened his eyes, Hiko Lennart, the Alpha Guide of Glacier Bank, was sitting by his bedside in a lazy hunch, long black hair framing his delicate face in smooth lines. DeMaurius blinked sticky eyes, then rubbed them with the back of — no, his right hand had an IV in it; he switched to his left hand — and touched dry fingers to his face, wondering where his glasses had gone.

“They’re here, Morrie.” Hiko cooed as he straightened long legs and stood. 

DeMaurius tried to turn to follow the movement and soreness hit him like a punch; he gasped involuntarily and Hiko was immediately beside him, energy buzzing high and mouth turned down in concern.

“Pain?” the taller man asked, and DeMaurius managed to nod, frozen in place by the throbbing agony between his legs.  
Hiko fumbled around for some kind of button, and a press of his delicate fingers made the pain ease, then slacken off.  
“Better?” he asked, and Morrie swallowed a dry mouthful of air and nodded again. Hiko made a small sound of sympathy and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. “Well, that’s the Change for you.” he said, so matter-of-factly that DeMaurius almost didn’t hear him.

Upon realizing, he turned a startled gaze to his Alpha Guide. Hiko was smiling gently, pressing the little medical button into his hand and reaching out to stroke the younger man’s bare cheek, transferring both satisfaction and affection in the gesture.  
“You’re one of us now, little brother.” he said, gently, and DeMaurius’s heart lurched. 

Hiko must have been reading him, because the smile on his face changed to one of deeper satisfaction and he settled back into his chair. 

“Your Change is starting well,” the Alpha Guide began, and DeMaurius felt a small bloom of pride at the minimal praise. “And we’re all very excited for you, and pleased to have you here with us in Glacier.” Now, it seemed that Hiko was reading from a script — rehearsed and unnatural. The Alpha Guide reached out and grasped his hand; the drugs were starting to make Morrie feel fuzzy, but he could still grasp the meaning of those words, and those that followed: “And we _do hope_ you’ll stay.” 

_Stay_ , DeMaurius thought giddily — he was safe, he was safe, he wouldn’t be kicked out of the pack, he wouldn’t be asked to leave, he wasn’t worthless, he wasn’t nothing; even a zero-point-five level Guide with no skills of discernable use was still valuable if he had Changed. 

For the first time since he’d come to Glacier Bay, Morrie felt the worry begin to melt away. Even if he wasn’t like the others around here — even if he couldn’t hunt, couldn’t fish, couldn’t run a trap line, and stuck out like a sore thumb (this strange, little, brown, bespectacled Guide in a sea of tall, angular, pale faces) — even with all that, he’d still wanted Glacier Bank to be home. He’d wanted anywhere to be home. 

That was it, then. Settled. Some part of DeMaurius, some part that had been small and running for far too long, wept with relief. Images flashed in his mind, but they were too faint and too quick to hold on to — cold water at a rusted pump next to a creaky old playground; an empty apartment with planes flying low overhead; a sick mother; a filthy city; endless train rides. All gone. And then he was here, and Hiko was holding his hand.

“Can we…help you to settle in a little better here in the Bank?” Hiko asked, and there was too much innocence in his voice, so that DeMaurius pulled his hand back and settled it in his lap, under the covers. 

“Can I have some water?” he responded, by means of distraction, and it worked — Hiko got immediately to his feet and threw the wealth of his straight black hair over his shoulder, going to the door. He said a few words to someone outside, and DeMaurius heard footsteps retreating.

Hiko waited patiently there, just smiling gently until a cup appeared, which he brought over.  
“I’ve asked for some food, too.” Morrie began to protest, but Hiko raised a hand. “I know you probably don’t want it, but your body needs fuel. Trust me.”  
DeMaurius acquiesced, feeling vague in his thoughts and thirstier by the minute. 

Hiko helped him to drink in sips, then set the cup down at his bedside.  
“Lukas wants to see you, when you’re feeling up to it.”

Morrie’s breath hitched a little. Lukas Lennart was the Alpha Sentinel of Glacier Bank, and he hadn’t wanted DeMaurius to stay in the first place. Lennart had, in fact, been openly hostile to the awkward stranger who’d rolled into their town, 26 years old and with no obvious skills to be had.  
‘A mouth without hands,’ Lukas had sneered, and gentle old Ada had come to his rescue and said that he could live with her, and that had both angered and shut the Alpha up.

Since then, DeMaurius and Ada had both made a point of avoiding Lukas Lennart. 

Mauri had been particularly diligent in the discipline of avoidance — had, in fact, worked very hard to stay out of the Alpha’s way and below his notice. In his time here, the young barely-a-Guide had done all he could shape himself into the most forgettable, overlookable, inconspicuous, unobtrusive Pack member that had ever been. 

To wit, he had:  
\- worked his daily shifts in the hardware shop without complaint, failure, or delay.  
\- gone to Haven once every three months for check-ins with Hiko and once every six for check-ups with Sue Kasper, the resident Guide-nurse and head of the small, two-story brick building that passed for their Clinic.  
\- joined the Haven’s book club, where he sat next to Elke Jacobsen and kept his mouth shut when the topics got too political.  
\- always declined to break Lukas’ townwide curfew and sneak out for late night bonfires with the other unbonds.  
\- only ever had one drink on nights when the other young Guides begged him out to Franz’s bar in town.  
\- never experimented with the herbal mixes that Elke brought in from the next pack over for kicks, and had never ever gone to the sawdust motel at the edge of Territory where nulls hung around mixing cheap drinks in the parking lot and trying to pick up Guides. 

The only risk he’d taken — the only action commanding any sort of attention or notice — was when he’d taken in Banneker, the rambunctious orange cat who’d been living under a rainwater cistern near Ada’s home.

Beyond that, Mauri had done all he could to ensure that his presence in Glacier would be, for the most part, quietly (and pleasantly) forgotten.

But now there was this. And like it or not, DeMaurius Perth had just been dragged to the front and center of Lukas Lennart’s attention — unsurprising, considering the circumstances, but frightening nonetheless.

He glanced up at Hiko, checking to confirm that the Alpha Guide was still watching him, and finding that indeed he was. Mauri briefly felt squeezed and wished for Ada, or his mother. Then, quietly (and whether out of pity or calculation, DeMaurius would never know), the Alpha Guide admitted: “He has a match for you, if you’ll take it.”

Morrie’s stomach lurched all over again and he began to feel ill; he was only just processing his current position, only beginning to consider what the Change would mean for him, where he would go and to whom he would belong, and now this…

“How long was I asleep?” he stuttered out.  
“Fourteen hours.” Hiko answered, looking at his nails. “You had a small seizure, but you were lucid for a little while before they knocked you out to let you get some rest before the Change really kicks off. The offers only started coming in this morning.” he added, frowning a bit at his charge, as if DeMaurius himself might have had something to do with the slow pace of proceedings. “But nevermind — they’re coming in, and that’s what matters. And anyway, you won’t be out of here for at least a week, and news will get around to the other Packs.”

Morrie’s heart leapt into his throat. Get around to the other Packs? Why should they have to know? He didn’t want anyone to know this, but at least if it had to get out, then he could contain this secret among the small community of Glacier Bank. _Other packs_ …his mouth felt dry. What if someone hunted him? Some desperate Sentinel from across the hinterlands? He didn’t want offers from anyone else. He didn’t want to go anywhere else. He didn’t want to be stolen. He wanted his quiet life and his cat, here in Glacier Bank.

“How many — how many offers came in?”  
“Four.” Hiko said, “But two you won’t want to take. Franz is a hopeless drunk, and Old Man Gustaf can barely get it up, I hear.” DeMaurius blinked hard, trying to make sense of what was going on.  
“No,” Hiko went on, looking thoughtfully toward the window, “You’d better go with Lukas’ choice.” And his energy flashed sharply and the threat was unspoken, but felt. Morrie busied himself with reaching for the cup again. A few more sips in, he found the wherewithal to ask:  
“Who?”  
Hiko smiled.  
“Armo Geir.”

DeMaurius’s mind flashed immediately to the only two times he’d ever seen Armo Geir in town — once, when he’d agreed to help stack the firewood the Sentinels had chopped for the Guides’ Bonfire before the Holiday Parade (Armo had dropped it off), and once when he’d not been looking where he was going in the hardware store. 

It had been late summer, and Morrie had been chirpily going about his daily inventory, taking stock of what needed restocking and doing some quiet tidying, when he’d stood up and run smack into Armo Geir’s chest. 

The Sentinel had looked mildly offended, drawing down his thick, ruddy brows into something like a frown, and his lip up into something like a scoff. Mauri had stood there for a too-long minute, stunned and embarrassed, until the Sentinel had grunted out an inquiry about a tap wrench. DeMaurius had pointed him towards it, Armo had disappeared and resurfaced later to thrust a few bills across the countertop before walking out, and then that had been the last Mauri had seen of him. 

That had been eight months ago now. 

“Does Armo know?” he asked Hiko, who laughed.  
“Of course he knows. He’s the one who proposed it to Lukas.”

Of course he had. And of course Lukas Lennart had already made the deal, because of course Lukas Lennart did not care what DeMaurius Perth wanted. Lukas Lennart was the Alpha, Armo was a Sentinel, and in their estimation of things, DeMaurius should be pleased to have even been asked about it after the fact. 

Morrie’s chest hurt, suddenly, and he wished for Ada and for home — whatever that meant. 

He swallowed again and glanced down at his lap, then up at Hiko.  
“Am I — um, normal?”  
Hiko laughed.  
“I asked the same thing when I woke up. You’re going to be completely fine, and apparently viable. Sue doesn’t see any early indication of complication or deformity.”  
Hiko ran a gentle hand over Mauri’s forehead.  
“So you’ll be able to give Armo beautiful children.”

Hiko said it with a hint of wistful commiseration, but to Morrie, this was an unspeakable comfort and a reassurance: Armo wanted him for the traditional reasons, and not for anything perverse.

DeMaurius tried to sit up, thinking suddenly of going for some fresh air, but Hiko must have seen the idea — he laid a firm hand on Morrie’s chest.  
“You’ll only hurt yourself; lie still, until the doctor comes back to clear you.”

And against his strong desires, raging instincts suddenly louder than they ever had been, Morrie complied. He laid back down in the bed and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I, uh, I don’t know anything about Armo.” he said, and then flinched. 

But apparently he’d done no harm; Hiko smiled a warm smile — perhaps pleased by Mauri’s implied cooperation.  
“He’s a hard worker, and a good lumberman. Lukas respects him. His work keeps the town warm. He has no family here, but he’s well-liked by everyone, I think, and he’s kind to the cubs. He plays the giant in their Christmas parade, you see, and he lets them swing his axe and climb all over him.”

DeMaurius wasn’t quite sure why a giant would be needed for a Christmas parade, or when axe-swinging had become a suitable activity for children, but those seemed like questions best left for another time. Glacier Bank was always like this, anyway, and Morrie had long ago learned to stop asking. Hiko continued.

“He doesn’t talk much, but he’ll be a good father. He’ll be firm with the Sentinels and kind to the Guides.” Hiko paused. “And kind to you.” he added, as an afterthought. Then, suddenly remembering: “And he said you can keep your cat.”

DeMaurius nodded and reached for his water cup; Hiko helped it to his hand.  
“Are you a virgin?” he asked, although in light of the circumstances, the question was likely unnecessary.  
Morrie choked a little on his water, then wiped his mouth. Hiko was looking expectantly at him, as if this were the most normal question in the world.  
“I - yes.” he said, because it was easier.  
Hiko nodded.  
“Ah. Then we will need a private session, with Sue, to get you ready, when it’s time. Armo is…not a small man, is he?”  
Morrie recoiled a little, at the vulgarity of that, but tried very hard to disguise it.  
“OK.” he squeaked, and Hiko laughed again; Mauri was surprised by the depth of it.  
“You’ll learn to appreciate it.” the Alpha Guide promised between breaths, and in that moment, DeMaurius got a glimpse of the sincere person underneath the cool exterior. “Anyway,” Hiko continued, growing more serious, “What I’d better do now is tell you what the Change is like.”

~:~


	3. Saturday.

Ada came to eat lunch with him, even though he couldn’t keep anything down but juice.  
“Banneker misses you.” she said, then seemed regretful when the simple statement made his eyes well up with tears.  
“Hiko said Armo’s going to let me keep him.” he eventually managed, trying and failing to get a hold on his emotions.

Ada’s jaw flexed and she patted Morrie’s hand.  
“Well, that’s one less thing to worry about, then, isn’t it?” she asked rhetorically, before reaching out to spin her finger in the coil in the center of his forehead. Morrie thought for a minute, chewing over his question before asking,  
“Ada, how come no one ever asked you to bond in Glacier Bay?”  
Ada smiled a rueful, sad smile.  
“They did.” was all she said, and DeMaurius thought it might be better to leave this one alone. 

~

They enjoyed a simple afternoon together; listening to the radio broadcast from out in Spokane and chatting as Ada knitted. Ada was talkative, an unusual trait for Glacier Bank, and DeMaurius loved it. He had loved it more in those difficult first days; when he had found himself alone and cold at the train station, having ridden as far as his cash would take him, and she had given him a home and an explanation. 

She had explained everything to him then; how to use the cranky old heater in the house, and what the strange animal tracks were around their land, and how to sew a patch onto all his old jackets so that he could keep every memento he loved (even if he did need warmer coats for the wintertime), and what snow looked like two days before it came, and most of all how to be a Guide in a world that was still figuring out what that meant. 

She had also given him a place, a belonging; in the first week, she had dragged him around to every bar meetup and book club in town, chugging through the streets in her smoky old truck, and introducing him with a kind of exuberance that made it seem as if she’d known him her whole life. 

“I was waiting for you.” she’d told him, sitting in her rocking chair by the window late one night. “I couldn’t have children of my own, you know. They thought I was unlucky before the catastrophe came, then they thought I was lucky afterward. But I only ever wanted a son. And time came, and came, and I waited, and nothing ever happened. I thought maybe I’d get married — or get bonded, they say now, don’t they? — and maybe they’d have some orphans or some tagalongs and ha! I’d be a mother. But it never happened. They never came.”

Morrie had felt sorry for her, but she hadn’t been feeling sorry for herself. She’d hummed a little, and her needles had clacked in the low light. Then she’d smiled up at him, with all the love in the world:

“I’d thought maybe I’d get a miracle; a lightning bolt and there’d be a little baby. Or a kid might float down the river to me. I’m so dramatic; I shoulda known you’d just come on a Tuesday, takin’ the train.”

~

In the afternoon, they played two hands of gin rummy before the pain meds wore off and DeMaurius lost his focus to discomfort. Ada brought a nurse and they forced him to chew something nasty, then gave him a little bump of his painkillers; he drifted off to the sound of her voice, and in his dreams, he was in a basket, floating his way down to the river to Ada’s house.

~:~


	4. Monday.

Sunday passed uneventfully, but on Monday things began to change. 

Hiko arrived in the early evening, after DeMaurius had decided to have his first shower in four days and after Sue had come in to give him yet another examination. He was in good health, she declared, and experiencing no complications beyond a vitamin D deficiency.

But even with her sign off, Morrie had still been shaky on his feet, so Hiko had taken it upon himself to help bathe him, stripping down without a hint of embarrassment to guide his new charge into a shower. Under the spray of the clinic bathroom, Hiko had gently laved the skin around his new parts with a soft cloth, chastising Mauri when he let the hot water spray too long on the still-forming outer cavity.

Then Hiko had urged him onto one of the teak benches to rest and dry himself off while the elder Guide dressed; afterward, Hiko had helped him to put on a cool-feeling lotion that smelled of the glacier and sunshine, and smoothed a light oil into his hair to give it some semblance of order. By the time they re-entered Morrie’s room, the sheets had been changed, fresh water had been placed by his bed, and a small stack of gifts had been arranged on the bed tray.

“For me?” Morrie asked, stupid with surprise and the fact that he’d only ever received a present a few times in his life — at each of the three Christmases he’d spent with Ada.  
“For you.” Hiko confirmed, taking issue with the way the pillows had been arranged in the room’s sitting area, and going over to correct it. 

The first gift was from Ada: a small box with a locket inside and a picture of herself on one side — Banneker on the other. 

The second was from Elke: a braided bracelet of the type he’d seen the Guides making at Haven sometimes, with an E and an M interwoven.

The third was from Lukas Lennart: a new identification card, placed in a smooth leather case. In ‘Place of Origin,’ the Alpha had written ‘Glacier Bank.’ Tears sprung to DeMaurius’s eyes.

Then, before he could open the rest, there was a slow knocking at the door and Armo Geir was entering his room. 

~:~

Looking absurdly tall and out of place in the small, cozy Guide space, Armo stood awkwardly inside for a moment, his long red hair uncharacteristically brushed back into a looped bun and his clothes freshly laundered. He was squeezing a small, furry bundle too-tightly and trying to force himself to make eye contact with Morrie. 

“I - Hello.” he said, and then flinched, as if he had meant to say something different. Mauri watched him with a kind of bewildered horror, still disoriented from the shower and the drugs. Armo looked at him, then at Hiko, and furrowed his brow.

“Hiko.”  
Hiko tilted his head, his eyes dancing with amusement.  
“Hi, Armo.” he cooed, in that way of his. “Have you brought a little present for Morrie?”

DeMaurius’ heart pounded. He was standing next to the bed, and wondered if he should get in it? Or maybe sit down on it? He wasn’t sure what would be seemly, or awkward, or just —  
“Yes. Here.”  
Armo took two long strides toward DeMaurius and thrust the small package out the dithering Guide, who startled at the abrupt gesture. Armo’s brow furrowed more deeply.  
“It’s a present for you.” he said, unnecessarily, and then gave a short, frustrated exhale and looked anywhere but at DeMaurius.

Mauri took the little fur bundle (he had grown accustomed to gifts in Glacier Bank being delivered in this manner) and glanced once at Hiko, who lifted his eyebrows in an encouraging gesture. 

Feeling a bit woozy but not certain why, Morrie brought his focus down to the gift; delicately, he untied the fishing line and unfolded the little squirrelskin. Inside laid a pair of gorgeous wooden rings, fashioned with incredible craftsmanship and polished to a high shine. Threaded through one of the rings was a little bundle of yellow flowers.

“They grow at my house.” Armo managed to offer, by way of explanation. “I don’t — don’t have pictures. But my house has these. It’s not very far away.” Armo coughed. “And it’s — the land is very beautiful. The house could be very beautiful, for you. Er, if you’ll have me.”

Mauri felt a knot form in his throat and swallowed thickly. He would not cry. There had been enough of that already, and the last thing he needed was to scare off his new Sentinel with some overly emotional display. He bit in the inside of his cheek, trying to focus on the pain, but the drugs had numbed him too well for that to work. He took two shuddery breaths in and finally got on top of his emotions, suddenly aware that he hadn’t responded yet — and Armo was probably waiting for an answer.

“I will.” he said, meaning it, and then burst into tears.

Armo froze in abject horror, and Hiko was at his side in an instant, soothing him. 

“Hush, I know it’s all new, I know.” Hiko murmured, pressing Mauri’s face into his shoulder. “I know.”  
Mauri felt mortified, but also somehow wholly unable to stop the tears. He could feel Armo’s eyes on him, could sense the Sentinel’s panic, and tried to offer some comfort.  
“I’m sorry about the tears!” he sobbed, choking on a bit of spit, “It’s not representative of my feelings! The rings are really nice and you’re very kind.”

Armo nodded mutely, stricken into an uncomfortable silence until Hiko instructed him to find a clean handkerchief and Armo was able to seize upon the sense of purpose.

A small white cloth was produced in short order, and Hiko thanked Armo and helped Mauri to dry his eyes, a small smile half-suppressed at the corner of his mouth.

After a minute, Mauri felt more composed. He tried to hand the handkerchief back to Hiko, who deftly avoided it.  
“Best you hold on to that, darling.”  
Mauri sniffled and nodded.

Armo was still standing in a corner of the room, lingering by the door with an expression of profound anxiety and glancing repeatedly toward the exit hallway.

“Armo, you must forgive Morrie. The change in hormones affects all of us differently, and I’m sure Mauri is as pleased to accept as you were to ask. Why don’t you head home, and maybe tomorrow you can come back and bring him a little dessert to celebrate?”

Armo agreed quickly and gratefully, turning on his heel to head out before hesitating at the door. 

“Maurius?” he said, his brow creased back into its defensive furrow and his strange accent revealing itself.  
“Yes?” Morrie answered, squeezing the handkerchief tightly in his hand. Armo blew out a breath.  
“Thank you for saying yes.” he said quickly, then dashed out of the room before more crying could be had.

~:~


	5. Thursday

Sue cleared DeMaurius to go home three days after that, but when Ada arrived to help him pack up his hospital room and limp his way out to her old smoky truck, Hiko Lennart appeared out of nowhere, all delicate hands and inscrutable expression. While Mauri had packed up his books and toiletries, Hiko said something to Ada in a low voice, and Morrie saw her look over at him, stricken, then answer in rapid, low tones to Hiko.

Shortly afterward, Lukas Lennart appeared in the doorway. Ada stared him down like a mother cat.

“You can’t take him away.” she said, bluntly.  
DeMaurius looked up from where he’d been folding a Glacier Bank-blue blanket that Sue had given him as a gift. He glanced between Ada and Hiko; this was the first he was hearing of this.

Lukas Lennart furrowed his brow.  
“He has to learn, Ada. He won’t get the chance to do that with you.”  
Ada stamped her foot, her face turning red.  
“Nonsense.” she snapped, “I’ll teach him just fine.” 

Her voice was firm, but Mauri could tell by the set of her hands on her hips that she was uncertain, nervous. Her energy felt like a low crackle, and he wasn’t able to parse the textures of it. Most Guide energies felt like that, to him. Like feeling through a heavy blanket — muted.

Lukas Lennart was unmoved.  
“You’ve never had a Sentinel, Ada. How can you teach him what you don’t yourself know?”  
Ada’s chest rose and fell, and DeMaurius intervened.  
“I really would like to just go — “  
Like magic, Hiko was at his side, ushering him away by the elbow. Where their skin touched, Mauri felt an unexpected sting that surprised him but dissipated quickly, like static. Before he could focus on it, Hiko was talking again:  
“Shh. Just let Ada and Lukas talk it out. This is about more than just you, Morrie.”  
Hiko led him over to the sitting area, where a small wooden crate was sitting, unopened — a box from Armo.  
“Why don’t you see what little present he’s sent you today?”

Armo had been sending presents every day since that first visit, but he hadn’t been back in person; Hiko had arrived each time with a small package in tow.

DeMaurius had wondered at them, at first — they were a spectacularly unpredictable collection; sometimes plants, sometimes food, once a graceful necklace made of acorn shells, hardened with some sort of a polish. Each gift had made Mauri wonder more at the man behind them.

Now Hiko was looking at him, expectantly, and Morrie felt put upon, and irritated. Across the room, Lukas was still staring Ada down.  
“He’s going to be married, Ada. It’s not a death sentence. You don’t have to protect him.”  
“Like hell I don’t.”  
“He has to learn.” Lukas repeated, and Morrie felt his heart pick up speed. _Learn what?_

Lukas glanced over at him and there was silence before the Alpha spoke again, and his voice was not unkind.  
“We’re his Pack, Ada. Don’t you think we will take care of him? Don’t you trust us to take care of him — and you?”  
Ada hesitated, and Mauri saw one lightly wrinkled hand go to the tattered sleeve of her sweater — burned on the stove a few weeks ago, he recalled. Lukas saw the weakness, and held out his hand to Ada, palm outward.  
She blinked at it, as if it were unfamiliar; then, her face hardened into something defiant.  
“Go to hell, Lukas.” she snapped, and turned on her heel to face Morrie.

“DeMaurius?” she began, and now, with her facing him, he could see the sadness in her eyes, “You’re always welcome to come home, kiddo.”  
She glared at Lukas, then turned back to Morrie and Hiko:  
“ _Anytime_ you want.”

Then she stormed out of the room, leaving only the scent of lavender and tea behind her. 

Morrie looked, forlorn, after her, Armo’s gift forgotten in his hands.

“I thought I was going home?” he said, to the empty air.

~:~

“So this will be your room.” 

With one graceful arm, Hiko swept open the door into the coziest-looking space that Mauri had seen since he’d been in Glacier Bank. 

There were high, sweeping ceilings in the Alpha’s house, and these extended into the guest suite which Mauri was now being instructed to occupy. Facing the door were three tall windows, east-facing to let light into the room; nestled against the north wall was the largest, warmest-looking bed that DeMaurius had ever seen, certainly in his earlier life and even since his arrival to Glacier Bank. The massive, wooden posts from which it was formed rested on a plush carpet woven in a tan-and-black pattern that appeared to show an animal in relief, fringed with rope. Massive in size, it was spread over most of the hardwood floor. Hung on the wall opposite the bed was a tall, framed mirror, and below the windows stretched a long chest of wooden drawers. DeMaurius tried to make out the pattern on it, but Hiko’s voice interrupted him.

“Bathroom’s through there. Windows are alarmed if you open them past the half-point, so don’t bother trying to sneak out — Lukas will know, and he will be... _disappointed_.”

Startled by the implication and the subtle shift in Hiko’s energy, DeMaurius wondered exactly what he’d be sneaking out for, then remembered, suddenly, his courtship and flushed. Right — _that_. Hiko, who had insisted on carrying in Mauri’s bags himself, now set the beat up leather duffel that Ada had loaned him down on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, then drew out and placed the still-unopened box from Armo on his bedside table.

Hiko turned back to Mauri, who was still standing in the doorway of his own room, clutching his blue blanket and looking forlorn, then sank down to take a seat on the bed. He frowned a little, touching his hands together, and Mauri felt again that odd, _off_ tickle along his skin.

“I know this is unexpected,” Hiko began, in a tone that was genuinely soft, “And I know there’s going to be more unexpected information to come. But I do think that Lukas is making the right call here. You’ll be much happier — and much healthier — if you spend some time getting to know us, and getting to know the rest of Glacier Bank before you bond.”

“I know Glacier Bank.” Mauri replied, and Hiko politely ignored the dissemblance. The Alpha Guide smiled, gently.

“You still have a lot to learn.” he said, and DeMaurius felt some mixture of shame and exclusion and resentment that bubbled up in him, but that he quickly pushed down. Hiko got to his feet.

“Since we have a few months until the union,” he continued, going around to open the blinds, then squeezing past Morrie to reach for the tall suitcase that had been left in the hall, “We’ll have lots of time to get you ready. I’m sorry you didn’t receive much…training before, but…well, at a 0.5, we didn’t know how much you needed — or if you’d ever bond at all, really.”

It was casual, the cruelty with which everyone referred to his low rating — everyone but Ada, who had just hugged him and put him to bed when he’d come home crying from Sue’s assessment, then gone downstairs and baked him lumpy, sweet cookies.  
_“There are other ways to comfort people, Mauri._ ” she’d reminded him, knitting by his bedside as he’d stuffed himself full of walnut-cranberry goodness.

A bang brought him back into the room, where Hiko was trying — and failing — to gently set his suitcase onto the rug.

“Sorry.” he cringed. “But let me know when you’re all unpacked — I can pop this out to the storage barn. Are you hungry? Kids are still at crèche for another hour, and Lukas won’t be back until dinnertime, so I can make a little something while you have a nap, if you like.”

Mauri had asked in the car, but had received no answer, and so he tried again now:  
“Why…am I staying here, exactly? Why could I not stay with Ada?”

Hiko rubbed the back of his neck with one hand — a performative gesture of an embarrassment that Mauri suspected the other Guide did not genuinely feel.

“Lukas thinks you’ll benefit from seeing a Sentinel-Guide pairing in action, from spending some time with a married couple to get a sense of how things work.”

Morrie _really_ hoped that wasn’t code for a threesome. 

Hiko raised an eyebrow.  
“That wasn’t code for a threesome. He really does think — and I happen to agree — that you will benefit from seeing Luka and I interact — along with our children — as you prepare for your own fertile bonding to a Sentinel. And I also think you’ll benefit from spending some time living a little closer to the way most of the Pack lives. You didn’t grow up in a Kin household, did you?”

DeMaurius shook his head. He hadn’t grown up in any kind of household at all, really, and for a moment he was gone again — taken back into the times of cold, hard train seats and empty cities. 

Hiko nodded affirmatively, looking deeply into his eyes.  
“Then it’s especially important. That you learn our ways, and that you understand them. And that you learn what the bond is, and what it’s meant to do, and how to behave with your Sentinel. Bonded life is complex — Sentinels are powerful, and it’s best to be prepared.”  
Morrie felt defiant; he hugged Sue’s blanket close to his chest.  
“Guides are powerful, too, Ada says.”  
Hiko blinked at him as if he’d said something very obvious.  
“Yes,” he said, slowly, “We are.”

After their chat, Morrie was left to doze for a while. In the early evening, Hiko brought him some warm tea and a simple rice dish, and he woke just long enough to nibble at it and work his way through ten or twenty pages of a novel he’d found on the free bookshelf at Sue’s clinic before dropping off again. Healing was still a slow process, and at the moment, exhaustion felt bone-deep. 

He fell into a deep sleep, and dreamed of Ada. 


	6. Autumn

The weather had turned outside, and the cool autumn weather was solidifying into something distinctly cold — the birds were gone from the trees, and the children kept misplacing their mittens.

Hiko had left for Haven early in the morning, explaining to Morrie that he’d be working on Guide Affairs paperwork most of the day after dropping the kids to the crèche. Luka would bring them home in the afternoon.

Lukas had arrived in a flurry of cubs and greeted DeMaurius in that cool, assessing way of his before the little girl he was holding — Phoebe, she’d introduced herself — demanded to be put down so she could chase after her siblings and the Alpha was forced to break his gaze.

“I’ve invited Armo for dinner tomorrow night.” Lukas stated — a declaration, not open for discussion. “I want to speak to you both about your courtship.” Mauri flushed and shoved his hands down into his pockets.  
“OK.” he mumbled, and Lukas’ gaze sharpened. Mauri felt pressed upon by something, suddenly, and took a step backward. Lukas raised his eyebrows.  
“How are you feeling?”

The question was so unexpected from the expressionless Alpha that DeMaurius had to blink twice before he could answer.  
“I’m…okay. Healing.” he shrugged, then, seeing an opening, hastily added: “And I appreciate your hospitality while I do so, Alpha.”  
Although he might have imagined it, Morrie thought he saw Lukas’ expression soften. Then the Alpha was frowning again; he nodded, curtly.

“Glad to have you here.”


End file.
